


i am never without it (anywhere i go you go, my dear)

by philindas



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-10
Updated: 2017-08-10
Packaged: 2018-12-13 11:34:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,130
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11758995
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/philindas/pseuds/philindas
Summary: Space is lonely.Or at least that’s what he tells himself when he sees Melinda across the cafeteria, smiling at him.





	i am never without it (anywhere i go you go, my dear)

**Author's Note:**

> Affectionately nicknamed the hallucination fic, set in what could be s5. Many, many thanks to Ness for reading this over for me and helping me work out all the kinks. Title is from an ee cummings poem.

Space is lonely.

Or at least that’s what he tells himself when he sees Melinda across the cafeteria, smiling at him. It’s impossible that she’s here- it had been one of his conditions; that she and the team stay on Earth. He’d only go to space if he was alone- he wouldn’t put his family through this.

He shakes it off, blaming it on the aching longing for Melinda that rests in the center of his chest constantly, and goes back to work.

But she’s waiting at his work station- though she’s different than the Melinda he left in the diner. Younger- freer than he remembers. Dark hair is split into two pigtails, as had been a favorite hairstyle of hers back at the academy, and a simple dark shirt and jeans.

He blinks hard, but she doesn’t disappear- she just smiles at him. And despite this being a sure sign that he’s crazy, or utterly losing his mind, the sight of her sends a torrent of warm calm down his spine, relaxing the tension he’s been carrying in his shoulders for weeks. Melinda has always had that effect on him, so it doesn’t truly surprise him that even a hallucination his mind had conjured could as well.

“I’m not going away if you blink, Phil,” she tells him, and her voice is soft but warm, and his chest aches.

Phil swallows hard, and the hallucination tilts her head, blinking. “You look tired.”

Phil snorts, settling into his work station, and his imagined May watches him, dark eyes on his movements.

_

She’s just…there, now. Everywhere he goes.

“You can’t ignore me,” she sing-songs as he goes through the line for food in the cafeteria- the same bland freeze-dried crap as the day before. He doesn’t respond, simply finds a seat, and she settles across from him. “You obviously conjured me up for a reason. Pay attention to me, Phil.”

He eats in silence, and May gives a loud, drawn-out sigh of exasperation.

“Quite a beard you’re growing- I think it suits you,” she comments one day as he washes his face- it’s part of his morning routine, but it’s been so long since he saw the sun he has trouble believing it’s actually a new day. He remains silent, running a hand through the salt and pepper bristles, and wonders if the real Melinda would like it. “Of course she would, don’t be an idiot.”

He swallows the laugh that bubbles in his chest, instead pulling on his shirt, and the mirage gives an overdramatic sigh.

“Always a shame to cover up that gorgeous chest of yours,” she laments, and Phil closes his eyes briefly. “Oh, the scar only makes you look more rugged, stop fussing.”

He leaves without a word, and May trails after him.

“This commander’s got a stick up her ass, doesn’t she?” she comments as Abigail Brand walks away, having dismissed his request to at least see how his team was doing on Earth. Phil sighs, shrugging.

“She knows if I see them, I’ll try to rescind our deal. Ask to go home,” he answers softly- he stops walking, turning his head to look at her somewhat warily. “And now I’m talking to you.”

“Just because I’m not real doesn’t mean I can’t hold a conversation,” May answers, and he can’t help the soft smile that curves his lips. “I’m a delight, you know.”

Amusement twists his mouth, and he starts walking again, heading for his work station.

“May doesn’t talk as much as you,” he points out in a low voice, and the image shrugs, hopping along beside him.

“May also hasn’t worn her hair in pigtails in nearly thirty years and wears mostly black,” she answers, tugging lightly on one of said pigtails. “I’m your hallucination.”

She sits on the desk beside him once more as he sinks into his seat, various charts and battle plans spread out on his desk, picking at her nails as he looks at the information scouts had gathered. He tries to focus, but all at once he misses the Melinda he’d left on Earth.

“You miss her,” the hallucination speaks again, and he looks up at her, a small, sad smile on his face before he nods.

“More than I could ever describe,” he murmurs low enough that the people nearby couldn’t hear.

“Explains why I’m here,” May says after a moment, but there’s something sad about her tone. “Why you chose her face, anyway. It’s always been her- the one that keeps you from doing something stupid.”

Phil doesn’t answer, but she continues.

“She keeps you sane, even when she doesn’t realize it,” May’s voice wavers just a moment, and he lets his eyes slip closed. “You love her.”

Something heavy shifts in his chest, and he keeps his eyes closed, afraid that if he opened them, words he’s repressed for so long will spill out.

_

“Why didn’t you tell her?” she asks one night as he lays awake, staring at the gray metal ceiling above his bed. He turns his head to look at her- she’s settled opposite him, back near his feet and legs crossed. “About the kiss.”

Phil turns his gaze back up to the ceiling before he answers.

“Because I couldn’t,” he answers, and the hallucination clicks her tongue against her teeth.

“Not a good enough answer,” she tells him, and he heaves a sigh, sitting up until he was level with her.

“Because she’d just been through a huge trauma. Because she deserved a full explanation that we didn’t have time for. Because I can’t be sure she’d want to see me again if I told her, and the thought of not having her in my life hurts more than dying ever could,” his voice is hoarse by the time he finishes, and not-May gives him an unreadable look, dark eyes he knows as well as his own scanning his face. “Because I’m tired of being the one that hurts her.”

“You won’t believe anything I say because I’m your hallucination,” she finally replies after a moment, and he nods warily. “But I think you’re blaming yourself too much.”

Phil snorts, opening his mouth, but May cuts him off.

“You heard her, in the tunnel- some of it was real. You’re the moron who went to space and left her behind,” she tells him, and he frowns. “I’m made from your thoughts. Obviously there’s some truth to what I’m saying.”

Phil’s frown deepens, but he has no retort.

“Go to sleep. You’ll be useless if you don’t,” May murmurs, and for a moment, she looks just like his Melinda back on Earth, warm eyes lined from the years, beautiful and sad. He blinks, and for the first time in weeks, his hallucination is gone.

_

It feels like part of him has disappeared with her.

He’d grown used to her constant chatter, filling the endless days with her soft laughter and running commentary on his fellow crew members. He misses Melinda’s voice, and the mirage of her face, and her smile- he’s dizzy with how much he misses his partner. But even that word seems too small- it can’t encompass the depth of his feelings. Not anymore.

He runs himself ragged in the hopes that the hallucination will return, remind him he wasn’t as young as he used to be. Remind him he needed to take care of himself. Tell him taking risks was stupid.

But she never appears, and he grows weaker and weaker as he sleeps and eats less and works more, desperate to conjure up the mirage of Melinda.

Four weeks after the hallucination disappears, Phil collapses at his work station, sinking into blissful blackness. He swears he hears Melinda’s voice, calling his name with a desperation he’s never heard before, but then he’s back under the black, feeling warm and safe.

Finally, he blinks his eyes open in an unfamiliar room. He assumes it’s the medbay- he’s never been there before, and he closes his eyes again, head pounding. It hurt to breathe, a vaguely familiar weight pushing on his chest.

“Phil,” the voice he’s longed to hear for months forces his eyes open once more, and he can’t help the smile as he looks at her face.

“You’re back,” he whispers hoarsely, voice catching in his throat. She looks like his Melinda now, older and dark hair cascading around her shoulders rather than pigtails- but she frowns. “I was getting lonely since you disappeared.”

“Phil, do you know where you are?” she asks, and he shrugs.

“I’m assuming the station medbay. I’ve never been here before,” he answers before his eyebrows crease. “That’s a weird question for my hallucination to ask.”

May’s face creases, and she touches her hand to his cheek- it’s warm and solid and confusion knits his face as he lifts one hand to wrap around her wrist. It’s solid under his touch, her heartbeat pounding against his palm.

“You’re real,” he whispers in awe, the hand not around her wrist lifting to her face, thumb stroking the lines next to her eye before crossing her cheekbone. Melinda leaned into the touch, her free hand covering his.

“Of course I’m real. You’re home,” she tells him, and Phil sits up, wincing at the head rush- and realizes all at once the pressure he’d been feeling on his chest had been gravity. Her palm slides to cover his heart.

“SWORD- my mission,” he starts, and Melinda shakes her head.

“You’re done. They got all they could out of you,” she cuts him off. “Commander Brand brought you back to Earth after you collapsed- too much time in space. She said your deal was completed.”

Phil lets out a heavy breath, a weight lifting from his shoulders as he leaned forward, forehead sinking to hers. Both her hands shifted to his chest, and they both took a moment to simply breathe together.

“Why did you think I wasn’t real?” she asks quietly, and Phil opens his eyes to find her looking at him, a curious look on her face that he couldn’t quite read. He studied her for a moment before remembering the hallucination’s words, and took a leap of faith.

“Because the only thing that’s kept me sane for the last months has been a hallucination. Of you,” he tells her honestly, watching as her eyes widen, face full of surprise. “You have always been my focal point- my calm in the storm, in a way.”

Melinda doesn’t reply, flattening her palms against his chest.

“I kissed the robot. It made my feelings complicated and messy when I finally got you back, and I’m sorry I couldn’t be honest then,” he continues, and though her eyebrows lift, there isn’t much surprise on Melinda’s face. “I’ve spent every moment away from you thinking about our conversation in the tunnels, and- and Melinda, I can’t take any more steps back. It’s been too long, and we’ve lost too much.”

He opens his mouth to say more- but it’s swallowed by Melinda’s mouth on his, warm and soft but desperate, seeking the same things he was- comfort and joy and the shared pleasure that they could stop waiting. Could stop changing the boundaries- instead, merely erase them entirely.

They are both breathless and panting when they part, and he cannot help but steal another kiss from her lips. Dark eyes he’s loved for years shine up at him, a soft hand stroking through the beard on his face.

“I’ve missed you more than I could ever tell you,” she whispered, thumb dragging over his lower lip. “I’m not- whole, without you here. I’m tired of pretending I’m happy with our boundaries. I can’t lose you anymore, Phil.”

Both of his hands slid up to cup her face, stroking over soft, damp skin. Phil bent forward, kissing her again, reveling in the way she sank against him, pliant and warm.

“I never want to be away from you again,” he tells her, feeling her hands bunch the front of his shirt. “Whatever we do now, we do together. I promise.”

Melinda nods once, leaning forward until her mouth could find his once more, and Phil’s eyes slip closed as he holds her closer, fingers sliding into her hair, silky strands wrapping around his hands. He opened his eyes as light flared, and they broke apart to stare at his prosthetic, glowing where it touched her skin.

“It’s never done that before,” he says, and Melinda gives a soft laugh, slipping her fingers into his and squeezing.

He relishes the weight of her hand in his, and the pressure of gravity on his shoulders, and knows that he was finally where he belonged. He was finally _home_.


End file.
